Then why do misty tears

Conceal each lofty crest,

If earth so far appears,

So near the land of rest?

Hush! for the mists withdraw

The Hidden shines in bliss;

Who in a valley saw

A heaven-light like this?

I think when earth can speak

(She will one of these days),

That every mountain-peak

Will give a shout of praise.

I did not care for the song that I sang;

I was not thinking of mountains at all;

Tiresome and strange in mine ears the words rang—

'Heaven is infinite, earth is so small'—

[pg 69]

Rang in that eerie monotonous way

Words sometimes will, when we don't will one bit.

Which proves they're alive—It is hard in the day,

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